Ginny

Life uh, finds a way.

To say that the way my life has shifted in the past year and a half is quite the transition, it would be a huge understatement. Here I was, a single bachelorette enjoying all that LA has to offer (of which I am now woefully missing considering my current circumstances), and overnight an old flame from my past comes crashing in. Quite literally, one random night my friend Zach messaged me on Discord telling me that “we’re playing Street Fighter and Drake is on, do you want to join?”

Fast forward a year and a half later, and I’m married with my first child on the way.

Life truly finds a way.

I had always assumed that maybe one day this life transition would come for me. Maybe. In the summer of 2023, partnership and motherhood were a goalpost so far in the future I wouldn’t even consider it for a five year plan. In fact, the idea of having my own children was one I had decided wasn’t for me (for reasons I still think are valid, mind you.)

Then I spent four, possibly even five hours in that group Discord call that slowly dwindled until it was just the two of us, casually catching up into the early twilight hours. He texted me the next day and we haven’t gone a day without talking since.

While our love story could fill an entire blog entry (spoilers), in summary, I am so beyond grateful for everything that brought us to where we are today, six years apart included. We both grew and matured in those years based off the life experiences we had, so when we did find our way back to each other, we were exactly where we needed to be to commit to this beautiful, healthy, strong relationship that we have today.

I loved the life I lived without the love of my life. I wouldn’t change a thing with all the experiences I had while I was out and about finding myself. But I also can’t imagine living my life without him anymore. Six years was a long gap, a gap that many become newer, different versions of themselves within. So when we came back together, it was in a way that was seeking the core of what was meant to keep us together, with all the growth and change that allowed us to finally seek compatibility.

And oh is it the most compatible relationship of my life.

Every day now is spent looking forward to the next we will spend together. I have the distinct pleasure of being married to my best friend, and in that is all the joy and happiness in the little things, the ease of communication and the bond that makes us want to tell each other everything about our lives. Everyone would be so lucky to find a love like this.

So what next? Well, for starters there’s a baby to be had. One of our very first conversations as friends was how we both were in a phase of life where parenthood did not seem completely off the table. And as we grew closer, the answer became very clear to me that it wasn’t that I didn’t want kids, I wanted his kids. Our sweet baby Atticus is due in May, and motherhood is a journey I feel my entire life has prepared me for, with every nurturing role I have ever assumed, both for family and friends alike. My hope is to take everyone along on the journey while I get used to this new title of “Mom” while also honoring my individuality. I am going to be my son’s role model after all, and I want him to be proud of what I do for both myself and our family and to see his mother as a whole being with her own hopes, dreams, and aspirations.

The other question that gets asked all the time is “what are you doing when Drake gets back?” This never fails to make me laugh, because as a new milspouse, I can tell you that the answer is…I don’t know either. This is a career full of unpredictability, and I’m just glad that somehow I have found a resilient strength in this lifetime to handle whatever happens. I’ll be chronicling my journey into the military spouse life, and I’ll be sharing all the tips and tricks I learn along the way for anyone who may also find themselves in my shoes. To be fair, it was not that long ago that I made an abrupt move on my own volition from one coast to another, and I know a thing or two about what it means to find your community as soon as humanly possible to thrive in a new space.

Also, I just really love making like-minded friends.

Considering the current state of the world right now, I have noticed that in the chaos, some have sought me out as a soothing, reassuring voice. And I guess in a way, that is what spurred me to start blogging again and sharing my experiences, hopefully in an effort to make the people I love and care about feel less alone while so much of my energy lately is focused on building and protecting my family. To share anecdotal evidence of my life as a mom, a military spouse, a queer and disabled person, a community leader, an advocate. All of the intersections of where I exist and the people I am connected to through them, I find it important for me to share what I feel, think, and see to normalize our lives.

So welcome back, I hope you find a little bit of yourself here, or learn something new about a perspective that you haven’t had before. As always, I lead with empathy and kindness, and that will be exactly what this blog is all about. Because as cliche at it seems, the things that really makes life worth it are bountiful love and joy, and that is worth elevating every single day.

xoxo, mrs. greer

can’t sleep.

I’m laying in bed scrolling through the dimly lit screen of my iPhone, and I can’t sleep. No, not just because of my awful habit of being on electronics before bed (I’m breaking the habit and replacing it with ASMR sounds and reading books, I swear). My mind is just buzzing with energy, deciding to pick this moment, 11pm on a weeknight of all times, to reflect on life so far and well, it won’t shut up until I vomit these jumbled thoughts out in the form of words. Enjoy.

So. July will mark one year in LA. A milestone I am excited to pass and also relieved to make it to after everything that cumulated in my arrival to my new home. So much has transpired, so many new memories, new friendships, new everything that it’s crazy to think that it’s only been a year since I packed up as much as I could fit in my little Chevy Cruze and drove West as far as I could go.

But now that I think about it, the end of May is also similarly symbolic for me, as it was the first time I’d visited the West Coast and the first time I’d been to LA. I knew by the second day I was in town that I would be making my move, staring at the Santa Monica mountain skyline from the beach walk, sand between my toes and feeling a visceral tug in my core to this place. Something inside me knew that whatever was to happen in this next part of my life, it had to happen here.

(Disclaimer: It helped that I ran into a nice man named Christian on the beach that day, who happened to also be from the exact same suburbs of Atlanta I was from, said he had lived in LA for seven years and I would definitely make the move too. Talk about the universe sending you the most obvious of signs).

I snapped this photo on the last day of my trip, somehow knowing I’d be back soon and would see this same view again. I did NOT expect that “soon” meant six weeks later. Life comes at you fast.

I still don’t quite understand how I managed to find the fortitude to secure a (very shortlived) job in three weeks, and driven cross country three weeks after the offer to start a new chapter out here (that’s a story for another post). It wasn’t exactly smooth sailing the first couple months, but the spirit of LA (and probably some of my mom’s heavenly influence) made it very clear I was not to leave under any circumstances. And now we’re here, almost a year in and really making roots. Living with an absolutely stellar roommate who makes our apartment truly feel like a home, working a great job that shows me respect and appreciation for the work I do, living four miles away from my best friend of 15 years, and developing a community that is slowly and beautifully building as time goes on.

I put so much effort into the community part as soon as my life had hit its stride out here and I could cry salty tears of relief at where I’m at today. My community in Atlanta means the world to me, and I knew I had to give the same energy to the friends I would make in Los Angeles if I was to feel like this was home, and god am I glad I did. I found my version of “Cheers” around the corner from where I live, a sweet little taproom where I can grab a beer, some dinner, and chat with the other regulars who have quickly become friends in a judgement free space where we jovially talk about craft beer, video games and anime. I joined a queer womxn’s kickball league that has been the highlight of my spring, bringing me beautiful queer friendships and a much needed queer space where I have been able to explore my sapphic side in a way I haven’t had the opportunity to up until now. My community grows, and thus I grow too.

Life is good. Change is happening, exactly as I had hoped it would. When I set my intentions for the year, I promised myself I would explore my authentic self, which in turn has brought revelations about my own identity and where I fit into this chaotic world. I still have plenty of progress to make, pieces of me that are in there, waiting to be discovered underneath years of masking and people pleasing. Every time I find a part of myself that has been hidden underneath the facade of trying to fit in and play a role in this society, it brings an innumerable amount of joy as I feel more like myself. I see that free, happy energy attracting people who are just as magical and talented and full of life and it feels just so right. If this is what it is like to live your truth, I want to dive into the depths and let it transform me.

Looking back, I’m proud of myself for taking the risk. LA was my first big move outside of college. It was my first time living on my own as an adult. I took all these milestones I had yet to experience, turned the dial of difficulty up to 11 and still accomplished them. I feel real, unbridled happiness out here that is unmatched and I am so excited for my future here in LA. I still have my days where I gaze off at the Santa Monica palm trees in the setting sun, or the picturesque Hollywood Hills as I drive into WeHo and I think to myself, “damn, I really do live here, huh?” I don’t ever want that feeling of wonderment to fade.

This is only the beginning, and I’m stoked for what’s to come next.

LA hikes are the juiciest, 10/10 would recommend.

too quiet.

The first thing I noticed was the quiet.

The day my mom left in the ambulance, it was quiet. No music, no TV. Just the quiet repetitive *plink* of morning rain hitting the roof and windows as she was wheeled out the front door. Unbeknownst to us, it would be the last time she would be in our home. Within a week, my family and I abruptly lost the vivacious, beautiful mom I had loved so much for almost twenty eight years of my life. The woman who gave me life was now not in it, and it was far too quiet.

Mom was feisty and full of sass, as much of a Scorpio as she consistently explained away her larger-than-life passions for. She played music in the house constantly from her Youtube playlists. And watched plenty of TV. And chatted with her sisters, her family, with me. I would often wake up and hear her liveliness, some sound or song sneaking through the cracks of my bedroom door because Mom was awake. Noise pollution was a regular thing in our household, and it was okay because filling the home with music and sound was just how my mom lived her life, and thus it became our way of life.

A spitfire of a woman, Mom always living life to the extremes and loud in personality. She would run over 40 miles in a week in her hay-day, and running was her passion. In fact, she ran so much (and subsequently broke her ankle so much) that eventually, she had to have her whole ankle and foot put back together. She would never take no for an answer, determined to get her way and to live her life the way she wanted to. And get her way she did (of which I am thankful, because one of those moments spurred the genesis of me). My mom had a way of charming anyone with her innate ability to connect with all walks of life, and those who met her would agree that she was a special soul. So kind and compassionate was she that the positive energy flowed from her in waves, her graciousness in her pursuit to be the perfect host apparent to all who met her, even if briefly. She was effortlessly memorable as a person, because she was sunshine personified.

As my dad has said, she had a smile that could light up any room. And it really did.

When Mom passed, it was quiet. All of the energy was suddenly sucked out of the room, a vacuum hollowing out our hearts. Within minutes of being off life support, she was gone, and with that last breath went my cheerleader, my fashion police, my confidant, my hypewoman, my guide, and my best friend. Her love for me and my family was so immense, so overflowing that her loss from this earthen plane felt unreal. I’m twenty seven. I was not supposed to lose a parent this soon. My heart was never prepared to face this devastating, yet inevitable, life event.

So we came home after, grieving hearts weighed down like an anchor, and it was quiet. No music, no TV, just tears and a hollow feeling in our hearts.

But suddenly, as if my mom knew what we needed, it wasn’t.

Family who had traveled in to be at her bedside with us came by our home, friends stopped by one by one, and the house was full of sound again. At some points, it was even a bit much for me, still awash in my grief and trying to make sense of my own feelings. But it was electric, the air energized by our camaraderie as we collectively made sense of the day. We talked, we reminisced, we played music and turned on some video games and made the best of it. I still cannot begin to express the gratitude I have for those few who moved through our home during the first week after Mom’s loss; it was a buoy to get us through the worst of those first initial waves of mourning.

Lately, the veil of initial shock from this unexpected loss feels like it has been pulled from my eyes; slowly it sets in more and more each day that my mom is no longer with us. Places in the home she spent much of her time in, songs she liked, and reminders of the important life events she won’t be her for continue to invoke tears and great sorrow. There is a bittersweet lesson to be learned of the power of a mother’s hug when you realize you won’t have one again while you’re still alive. Such a constant was she in my life that I now have to navigate a new normal where I don’t have her to lean on for support and encouragement. To be my source of strength. Writing this alone prompted warm, salty tears to run down my cheeks with wild abandon. She called me her mini-me, and I didn’t realize until it was too late just how much I relied on the energy of our mother-daughter duo as part of my own identity.

It is in the moments that it is too quiet when it hurts the most. When my mind has the space to run away with itself and threatens to collapse my psyche with the weight of unbearable grief.

So for Mom’s sake and my own, I will keep that good noise going. I’ll continue to live my life loud and full to honor her legacy and hold her spirit close. I will encourage those around me to keep her memory alive by living a life of love and kindness.

I know I made you proud, Mom. You never faltered in reminding me of that. I promise to continue to make you proud as long as I live.